


Symbol

by astraplain



Category: Gorgeous Carat
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraplain/pseuds/astraplain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the middle of the night, Ray is restless and Florian's not wearing a robe</p>
            </blockquote>





	Symbol

"It's cold, come inside." Florian leans against the doorway shivering in his thin nightclothes. It's well past three in the morning but he won't return to bed alone no matter how long he has to wait. It's not the first time he's woken in the night to find his lover on the balcony, staring out at the darkened city of Paris.

"You never wear your robe," Ray counters, finally looking away from whatever he finds so interesting. He shakes his head and closes the short distance between them, his hand already reaching out to touch Florian's chilled skin.

"It's too heavy." Florian's complaint is a familiar one - he's objected to the extravagant garment from the start, even more so when he saw the amount it added to his debt. Eleven years they've been together now, since that fateful day when Florian's mother invited their distant relative and notorious usurer to the Rochefort mansion to ask for a loan. Ray had agreed, claiming Florian in exchange. The debt is nothing more than a private joke now, something for Ray to tease Florian about, knowing how sensitive the blond is about being obligated to anyone.

"Are you telling me you don't like your gift?" Ray pretends to be offended as he pushes Florian back into the bedroom and retrieves the garment from the chair where he'd placed it before going out to the balcony. He's been restless and unsettled for days. Second-guessing himself is a rare occurrence for Ray and he doesn't enjoy it. He works hard and is rightly confident in his judgments and abilities. It is that confidence that has made his alter-ego, the Phantom Thief Noir, the bane of the European upper-class for more than a decade.

"It's perfectly fine; it's just stiff and heavy. You know I liked my old one better." Florian accepts the garment and puts it on while Ray watches. Ray steps close and smooths the collar, before tying the belt. He runs his hands over the fabric covering Florian's chest, appreciating the richness as well as the familiar curves underneath. Florian's filled out a little over the years but he's still slender, his body a perfect match against Ray's taller, broader form.

In the pre-dawn light, Florian's amethyst eyes glow, enhanced by the colors in the robe - the very reason Ray choose it despite the ridiculous expense. He'd spend his last coin on this man if Florian would let him. Not that Ray ever needs to worry about finances; Florian is quite conservative in managing the household accounts while still indulging Ray in his luxuries - like those hand-rolled cigars he is never without.

"You're thinking too hard to fall asleep," Florian scolds with a gentle smile. He caresses Ray's face with a feather-light touch, then takes his hand. "Let's go back outside for a while. The fresh air will help you sleep."

"You mean you're not going to tuck me into bed and bring me warm milk?" Ray asks, pretending to be disappointed in Florian's lack of tender care.

"You hate warm milk; it upsets your stomach."

"Warm brandy doesn't upset my stomach."

"No, but it makes you snore and I'm tired. You wore me out earlier."

"Did I?" Ray pulls Florian close and rests his head on his shoulder, looking up at him with an innocent smile. "Would I do something like that?"

"Several times nightly, given half a chance." Florian's stroking Ray's hair back away from his face, their lips mere inches apart.

"Was that a suggestion?" Ray tilts his head up and presses his lips against Florian's neck. He licks the sensitive flesh lightly, little kitten licks as Florian calls them. Just as he feels Florian responding, he opens his mouth slightly and sucks hard, intent on marking his lover.

"Stop that." Florian pushes him away, but not too hard. He's half smiling as he adds, "Madame Claudell will be scandalized."

"It's your own fault for accepting her invitation. How you can stand her art afternoons is beyond me. I went once and still can't think about Mozart without cringing."

"Neanderthal," Florian teases, pushing Ray towards the bed. He pauses to secure the balcony door then hurries to stop Ray before he can remove his robe. Pressing fully against him, Florian reaches around and unties the silk, slowly drawing the fabric aside, then running his hands lightly over Ray's nightclothes, appreciating the form underneath. The clothes are warm and Florian tightens his hold for a moment, savoring the contact. Ray shifts, turning in Florian's arms and Florian loosens his hold just enough to accommodate the movement.

"It's hours until we have to be up," he offers hopefully but Florian just laughs and pushes him backwards so he falls onto the bed. There's a dangerous glint in the blond's amethyst eyes as he lowers himself down onto his lover.

"You're such a bad influence," Ray tells him happily. They wrestle a moment until Florian ends up under Ray. Ray's hands start to wander and Florian waits for the familiar touches that signal another round of lovemaking. He's surprised when Ray simply slips his hand downward and into the pocket of Florian's robe.

"You never check your pockets," Ray complains as he holds up a small pouch. "That's a very bad habit."

Florian reaches for the object but Ray holds it away from him, drawing it open slowly, then upending it onto his palm. He conceals the item in his fist as he smiles down at Florian. "You kept me waiting all week with your bad habit. I expected you to find this on your own. It's been driving me mad."

Florian blushes, finally understanding why Ray has been so distracted lately. He doesn't make gestures like this often.

"I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?" He smiles his most seductive smile.

"Only if you let me wear you out. I'll have you walking bow-legged at Madam Claudell's tomorrow."

"Promises, promises. If you can wear me out I'll skip Madame Claudell's and we'll take a long, decadent afternoon nap instead."

"I do believe you've learned my wicked ways," Ray states after a moment of consideration. He follows it with a wide grin. "I'm so proud." He takes Florian's left wrist in his hand and presses his fist over it so that something cool and hard brushes against it. Ray bends his head over it and fusses, two handed for a moment, before releasing the wrist with its new bracelet.

Florian pulls his arm back to study the gold band. It's a series of simple gold links, heavy enough to be masculine but still light enough to be comfortable. As he studies it, Ray reaches out and brushes his hand over the clasp.

"There's engraving. Too small to see in this light, but it's your initials and mine where each of the links meet. It's inside so no one will see, but..."

"We'll know. That's what matters." Florian studies the bracelet for another moment before reaching up and pulling Ray down for a long, inspired kiss. When he finally lets Ray pause for air, he asks, rather breathlessly, "Can they make another?"

"Florian..."

"As a symbol, Ray. You won't have to wear it."

Ray looks away, a little awkward. Finally he reaches into his own robe pocket and pulls out another pouch. "Don't expect me to wear it." He states even as he holds out his own arm for Florian to fasten the matching bracelet. "It's just a symbol."

Florian nods obediently, then flashes Ray a devil's smile before grabbing him and reversing their positions. He presses against Ray, making contact in strategic places before leaning down and attacking Ray's neck. He works fast, fighting off Ray's half-hearted attempt to stop him. When he finally lifts his head a moment later, he can see the dark purple spot on Ray's neck. He grins as Ray touches the mark and tells him. "Don't worry. It's just a symbol."

In the morning Florian curses his reflection, already planning his letter of regret to Madame Claudell. "Just a symbol, my ass," he mutters, when a twinge reminds him he has one there as well.

::end::


End file.
